


who gives a damn (about the family you come from)

by iamnotalizard



Series: trans diego & child five [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Coming Out, Gen, No Apocalypse, Time Skips, Trans Character, child!Five, he is a Teenager, maybe a bit ooc but hey the charter of rights promises me liberty and i'm taking it, mentions of child abuse TECHNICALLY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 01:23:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18355721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamnotalizard/pseuds/iamnotalizard
Summary: eudora and beaman are surprised to find out diego has a kid; they're more surprised when they see what their relationship is like





	who gives a damn (about the family you come from)

**Author's Note:**

> i struggled to get a 2000 word paper done about the history of light and its social consequences when i had all term to finish it and yet i managed to churn this out in like 5 days like i'm an amish farmer trying to make butter
> 
> also lemme stop yall right there, five doesnt date, funk, or otherwise have a romantic or sexual relationship w/ anyone, he is fourteen in this

The first thing that tips Eudora off that something weird is happening, is the fact that Diego is wearing a tie. Not just some shoddy clip-on tie, or one that he clearly borrowed from some other detective, like when he has to give a testimony on the stand, but an actual hand tied tie.

The second thing is his absolutely foul mood.

“Jesus, what’s got your panties in a bunch?” Beaman asks after Diego snatches a cup of coffee from him. His question makes Diego scowl more. Surprisingly, instead of just telling him to fuck off, he actual answers.

“I have to go to this bullshit interview with my kid’s principal because my smartass of a son has behavioural issues, which I already fucking knew, and I told them last time I had to go to a parent-teacher interview, I said, ‘He doesn’t like other kids, he won’t do class participation, he’s not going to play games with other kids, he just wants to sit down and learn and read and then go home’ and they said, ‘Oh, Mr. Hargreeves, I’m sure that’s not true, we can get him out of his shell!’. Well! He’s out of his fucking shell now and he’s telling other kids that they’re fucking dumbasses!” Diego seethes, jaw tensing more and more as he goes on.

Eudora and Beaman stare at him, jaws dropping. Diego takes a breath.

Eudora clears her throat. “I didn’t know you had a kid.” Beaman nods in agreement.

Diego looks at them. “He came in like two weeks ago with my brother to give me my house keys.”

They both cast their memory back, trying to remember if either of them had seen a kid with Diego’s eyes, or hair, or mouth, or skin tone. The only kid they remember seeing Diego with was a pale boy with brown hair, who seemed to be mouthing off to an annoyed Diego. The kid came in with Klaus, and given the stories, she heard of him, and their similar colouring, she has presumed that the kid was his or Dave’s. In retrospect, Eudora guesses the kid and Diego had similar noses.

“Oh,” she says. “Well, uh good luck, I guess.”

Diego nods, grabs his coffee and stalks back to his desk.

\--

Eudora doesn’t feel as bad that she didn’t know that Diego had an entire child without her knowing, once she realizes that nothing about him or his workspace advertises the fact.

He has no pictures of anyone at his desk - not even his mom, and Eudora knows how much he loves her - much less any pictures of him and his kid at a baseball game or birthday party. His wallet is sans photos as well; she knows because once she had to dig through it to find a ten dollar bill to pay for some take out they ordered on a night shift. Even his phone screen is just a default black.

The only thing that could possibly point towards the fact that he’s a father is his phone calls when he’s working late.

The Captain is really breathing down everyone's necks to get the crime stats in, and after a brief server crash that erased twenty minutes worth of work for everyone, he’s screaming that everyone is staying an extra three hours to get them back on track. It’s already six, so people groan and start to call and text their significant others and kids that they’ll be late for dinner or bedtimes.

Eudora sees Diego roll his eyes once the Captain goes back to his office, before digging his phone out of his pocket. Usually, he’ll go and walk outside to make phone calls, but he must be feeling tired today because he stays seated.

Eudora hates feeling nosy, but she figures, _I’m a detective_ , and Diego is sometimes a partner, so she should know this about him right?

He clicks on a contact, then puts his phone to his ear.

“Hey,” He says, voice neutral, “I’m gonna be home late tonight. Hm? No, it’s just work stuff. Listen, there’s leftovers in the fridge from last night, if you’re still hungry after you’ve had that then you can order a pizza or something. If I find an empty pizza box and the leftovers, I swear to god, I’m feeding you plain mashed potatoes for a month. I should be back home before you’re asleep, but I’ll let you know if I get held up anymore. Make sure you do your home- oh, you’re already done? Okay, good job. Okay, see you later. Wait! I just remembered that you’re grounded… uh…. If you watch tv, make sure it’s off by the time I get home so that I can pretend that you’re actually being punished. Oh, you do that anyway? Great. Okay, bye.” He hangs up, slips his phone back into the pocket of his leather jacket, and goes back to staring at a report he’s trying to type up.

Curiosity takes over Eudora.

“So, uh, that was your kid?” She asks, leaning over to talk to him.

Diego nods, “Yup.”

“You have a son, right?”

“Uh huh.”

She waits for a follow up that never comes.

“What his name?”

“Five.” He squints at some writing, before backspacing and retyping a line. Eudora blinks.

 “His name… is Five?”

 “Yeah, he refuses to go by anything else.”

 Eudora nods again slowly. “How old is he?”

 “He’s fourteen but he acts like he’s a fucking twenty seven year old business major with the attitude that he’s got.”

Eudora furrows her eyebrows. Fourteen? Diego turned thirty less than a year ago. That means he had the kid - _got someone pregnant!_ \- when he was sixteen, maybe fifteen. She leans back into her chair.

“Oh.” She says, suddenly understanding why Diego never barged into work showing everyone new baby photos like Martinez from I.T. did a few months ago. Why he doesn’t go around showing off awards or certificates that Five has won. She gets why he doesn’t have any photos of a young kid on his shoulders at his desk, or why he doesn’t go around bragging about his son’s - Five’s - accomplishments.

A lot of people their age have kids, yes, but only around the ages of five or six, maybe even if they started a family early. Baby pictures of Five would also be high school pictures of Diego. To Eudora’s knowledge, Diego is single and has been for at least a few years. He was single when he entered the police academy too, when he was twenty-one, too.

Five’s mom probably isn’t in the picture, hell, maybe she never was in the picture, to begin with.

Eudora made a lot of mistakes with people at sixteen, but never one that resulted in a kid.

She looks over at Diego, still squinting at the screen and typing away, and more than anything feels sympathy for him.

_Still_ , she thinks, turning back to her own work, _it’s a bit sad that he seems to ignore the fact that he has a kid when he’s at work._

\--

It’s three weeks later when Beaman looks up from his desk and sees a kid walking towards Diego. He’s wearing a school uniform, knee socks and all, and looks incredibly bored. He has a backpack on but is still carrying a notebook in his hands.

He makes his way to Diego’s turned back, raises his notebook, and lets it drop to the ground. It lands with a loud SMACK that makes every cop in a two-metre radius jump. Diego isn’t an exception, with the way he jerks around, hand finding his holster.

When he sees the kid, he sighs.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to do that?”

The kid shrugs, before leaning down and picking the notebook up. He takes off his backpack then puts the notebook into the bag.

Diego looks at the clock on his computer. “We have a few minutes, let me finish this then we can get going, okay, Five?”

The kid groans, but nods, dropping his backpack at Diego’s feet and stalking off towards the kitchenette.

Beaman wheels his chair over and asks, “Who’s the kid?”

“Five,” Diego replies, “My son.”

Beaman sputters, before managing an “Oh, okay.” and returning to his desk.

After a few minutes, Diego, seeming satisfied with his work, logs off the computer and starts to gather his things. Five returns with a paper cup that steaming.

Diego glares, “I told you not to drink any more coffee today.”

“Yeah, well, you also told me not to drink alcohol and yet somehow I know how to make a margarita.”

Diego sighs pinches the bridge of his nose, and says, “Just pick up your shit and let’s go.”

Five grabs his backpack, before hastily walking out.

\--

“You know, I saw Diego’s son today,” Beaman tells Eudora in the breakroom later, “He was… something else.”

Eudora nods, “They don’t really look related, do they?”

“No, not really. I mean, I guess they have similar noses, but that’s about it.”

Eudora takes a sip of her tea. “He’s… older than I would have thought.”

“Yeah,” Beaman lets out a whistle, “Diego must’ve had him young.”

“He really doesn’t seem like the parenting type, does he?”

“That he does not.” Beaman thinks about Diego’s remarks to Five before leaving.

They both nod, feeling vaguely guilty about talking about Diego’s parenting behind his back, before finding a new topic to talk about.

The next day, they don’t bring up Five to Diego.

\--

Vanya doesn’t dislike Five, in fact, she loves him dearly, would be willing to put down her life for him if he needed it. Five has made her life better in many ways; his existence helped her and Diego’s relationship immensely, him always wanting her to teach him how to read music, how to play the piano or violin has made her a better teacher, and she loves watching him light up as he gets carried away on some tangent about math, or physics or space. Overall, Vanya can’t imagine her life without Five being somewhere in the background.

It’s just.

He listens to her even less than he listens to Diego, which already, isn’t a lot.

She supposes that’s to be expected. Diego is Five’s dad, the highest authority the kid recognizes besides his own, which means that all his aunts and uncles fall below that.

Klaus doesn’t mind the fact that Five never listens to him or Dave, in fact, Vanya thinks he enjoys basically being equals with the fourteen-year-old. Five only listens to Ben occasionally, since Ben can usually use reason to convince Five one way or the other. Sometimes Five listens to Allison, the new(er) mom able to appeal to the childlike tendencies that Five tries to pretend don’t exist. Anything Luther says Five ignores on principle, a fact that brings a smile to Diego’s face.

But, Vanya? She knows that Five respects her authority more than other aunt or uncle - that doesn’t mean he likes her more though, she has learned over time. He just respects her more.

She thinks it’s because she always tried to listen to him when he was younger. She never tried to speak over him or dismiss him outright. She didn’t want him to feel like she did.

When Five was really young, he used to sneak into her bedroom when it was supposed to be his nap time. The naps were partially for Five, and partially to give Diego time to get out all the aggression he couldn’t let out around a kid.

Five would watch as Vanya practiced the violin, or sit on her lap as she read, or sometimes actually nap on her bed while she studied.

Not much has changed, considering she comes home to her apartment some nights, to find Five asleep on her couch.

“You cannot keep breaking into my apartment!” She says, making tea for both of them, waiting for Diego to come to pick Five up. He sounded annoyed over the phone, no longer surprised by Five’s antics but still irritated by them.

“So long as you continue to leave your windows unlocked, I certainly can.”

“I live on the second floor!"

“Rapists can climb!”

Vanya closes her eyes and breathes through her nose. She grabs the cups of tea and brings them over to the coffee table.

“Why did you even come over, Five? It’s late, it’s cold, I know that it takes at least forty minutes on the bus. Why did you come all the way over here?” Maybe it’s a by-product of literally growing up with him - albeit in a very different stage of development - that made Vanya so attuned with Five. She never had to pull the parent card, like Diego did (he was the only one who felt comfortable doing that as a teenager), and she never felt comfortable to just ‘become friends’ with Five, as Klaus and Ben did. She didn’t distance herself or wait for Diego to beg her for help to start a relationship with Five. She’s really, not that she wants to admit it, the closest thing to a normal aunt that Five has.

Five looks at his lap and in a soft voice, he said, “I got into another fight at school and Diego had to pick me up. He was really angry and he yelled at me in the car, and then I yelled back, and then he had to go back to work.” Five’s voice gets impossibly quieter, “I felt really bad and I didn’t want to have to see him right away when he was done work. So I came here.”

Vanya looks at Five’s hunched over figure. Sometimes she forgets how young he is, how young Diego is to have him. She moves over to sit next to him and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Look, Five, I get that. But you can’t keep leaving home without calling or leaving a note. Diego worries about you, and when he worries, so do I. And regardless what you may believe - or may want to believe - Diego is your father and does think a lot like you,” she can see Five rolling his eyes. “He’ll understand if you let him."

Fifteen minutes later Diego is waiting at the door as Vanya gives Five a hug goodbye. She gives Diego a look before he leaves, and tells him to drive safe.

Vanya doesn’t know if her speech had any effect on Five, or if she helped the situation at all. All she knows is that from then on, Five texts her letting her know that he’s climbing the fire escape to break in.

\--

Diego gets a knee to the chest and what’s probably a broken rib a few weeks later. This is on top of the stab wound to his shoulder. Eudora finishes up with the arrests, before going over to the ambulance that he’s sitting in, watching as he winces trying to get his shirt over his head.

“Got a new scar to add to the collection?” She jokes, seeing the paramedic laying out tools, getting ready to stitch Diego up.

Diego finally pulls his shirt all the way off, groaning as he brings his arms back down, “Oh yeah, you know me, can never get enough.”

Eudora laughs before her eyes fall to Diego’s chest. Two symmetrical scars lay underneath his pectorals, only just slightly paler than the rest of his skin.

“When did you get those ones?” She jerks her chin towards his chest. He looks down and seems a bit embarrassed when he looks back up.

“Uh, got them before the academy, way earlier.” Eudora wants to follow up but then sees him tense as the paramedic starts to disinfect the wound, letting him know that the first stitch will come any second.

She always finds it funny that Diego will brush off a stabbing or a bullet wound like it’s nothing, but even mentioning needles will make him pale.

“Hey, so uh, will Five be worried about you?” She asks, figuring that there’s no better way to distract Diego than to get him to talk about his son.

Diego snorts. “Five? No way, he’ll probably make fun of me for being too slow to dodge a knife.”

Eudora hums, pretending like that’s a normal response. “What was he like when he was young?”

The paramedic is starting the first stitch, and Diego’s face gets pinched. “He was a fucking angel as a baby. Quiet, didn’t cry, ate his food. Didn’t last long though, turned into a demon as soon as he could walk and talk. Sometimes I think that he’s making up for lost time by being mouthy now.”

Eudora’s about to ask another question and is surprised when he continued unprompted.

“You know, a lot of parents say things like, ‘I loved my kid the moment they were born’, or even before they were born. My dad, he… well, I didn’t want a kid at sixteen, I mean, who the fuck does? But, I was acting out, and I was angry at that age, and he thought that going through with it would be the ultimate punishment and the ultimate lesson in responsibility. So, even though I didn’t want Five, I had him. And the whole time leading up to his birth, I was thinking, ‘I can love him when I hold him, I’ll love him as soon as I set eyes on him’, and then he was born and I held him and I just. I don’t know. I didn’t feel anything. I didn’t hate him for ruining my life, but I also didn’t love him. I feel guilty as fuck about that now, but I was sixteen, I had to quit my swim team to take care of this kid, I had to quit archery and track, I couldn’t go out to parties anymore, none of my friends wanting to hang out with me, and my siblings didn’t know how to treat me anymore, all my time I was just looking after this thing that didn’t even look like me. But as he got older - as we both got older - I guess I learned how to love him. And I really do love him, I would do anything for him now.”

The paramedic is almost done with the stitches, and Diego looks just about ready to faint.

“I just, I wish I had him at a better time. I wish I could have loved him from the beginning. I think he knows that I didn’t love him at first.” The paramedic ties off the last stitch. “I think that he’ll always hate me because of that.”

Before Eudora can say anything else, Diego’s eyes roll back as he faints. The paramedic catches him, lays him onto the stretcher and says, “Low blood sugar, probably. He’ll be back up in no time.”

Eudora nods, deciding that this is the type of conversation that she won’t repeat, and that she can’t bring up again.

\--

Five never says so, but days with Diego aren’t really as bad as he pretends they are. They’re lounging on the couch after a day of errands, visiting Grace (Five refuses to call her grandma, at this point, not even he knows why), and a visit to the library so that Five could get an extension on a book he hasn’t quite finished reading.

To top it all off, on the way home they stopped at a cafe, and Diego let Five order the biggest coffee on the menu without complaint or comment.

The show on television is garbage, and Five would rather be reading his library book, but he’s so comfy underneath the blanket Diego threw over him, and despite the amount of caffeine he ingests daily, he can feel his eyes slipping closed.

He’s only slightly roused when he feels two strong arms around him, lifting him from the couch. He just curls in on himself more, and he can faintly hear Diego chuckle but it sounds and feels a million miles away.

Five feels himself being placed on his bed, hears Diego tugging at the comforter until it’s over Five’s shoulder, and the pressure as he tucks him in, something he hasn’t done in almost a decade. He barely did it before too.

Five assumes he’ll leave right away, so he starts snuggling into bed, but then his sleep addled brain is surprised when he feels Diego petting his hair and whispering,

“Goodnight, kiddo,” a term Five never lets him use, and then he feels Diego kiss the side of his head, an action Five never lets him do. “I love you.”

After a second that lasts an eternity, Five hears the door to his room close, leaving him alone in his room.

If he sleeps any better than night than usual, he racks it up to coincidence.

\--

Beaman is at a club with his friends on a Friday night. It’s not a common occurrence, but his friend got a promotion and wanted to celebrate. The club they’re in isn’t strictly a gay club, but he can tell there’s a lot of gay people in it. Not that he has a problem with that, it just means that he doesn’t think he’ll be heading home with anyone tonight.

It’s just after ten when Beaman finishes his drink and heads to the washroom. As soon as he opens the door he can tell that people are going at it in the stall. The grunting and moaning can be heard over the muffled music when the door is closed, and he can see the two different pairs of shoes underneath the stall door.

Usually, Beaman would hightail it out of there, but he’s already pleasantly drunk, and he really has to piss, so he just shrugs and uses the urinal. As he’s zipping his pants back up he hears one last grunt and some heavy breathing.

Beaman is just finishing drying his hands at the sink when the stall door opens, and who else than Detective Diego Hargreeves walks out. Beaman turns around after recognizing him in the mirror, and Diego stops in his tracks, mouth gaping.

Beaman has to say, he never expected Diego to own leather pants.

The other man - _oh lord, the man Diego was having sex with_ \- walks out of the stall, slaps Diego’s ass, before saying, “Call me sometime, baby.” and walking out, not before throwing a tied condom in the trash.

Diego and Beaman stay frozen.

After a minute Beaman clears his throat. “So, I guess Five won’t be getting a sibling anytime soon.”

Diego lets out a laugh that, even in his slightly drunk state, Beaman can tell is forced and pinched.

They’re saved from any further awkwardness when a skinny dude wearing a skirt - Klaus, Beaman remembers - bursts into the washroom, yelling, “Brother dearest, did you have a good time?”

Diego whips towards him, immediately saying, “I’m going home now.”

Klaus pouts and says, “Ugh, Dave wants to leave too, you guys are so boring. But, fine, let's go. ”

Diego almost sprints out of the washroom.

On Monday, Beaman can barely make eye contact with Diego without blushing.

\--

It starts out a fairly quiet day. Eudora hands in all her completed files and reports before noon, interviews a witness and manages to organize her desk before everything goes to shit.

Before she even sees what’s going on, she hears a voice demanding, “Let go of me, you goddamn creep!”

Diego’s head snaps up, eyebrows furrowing when he sees Davidson, the beat cop, leading Five by the arm through the precinct.

“Five?” Diego asks, eyeing the cut on his cheek, bloody knuckles, and the blood around his nose, “What happened?”

“He got into a fight with a classmate. Happened outside school grounds. A bystander called, I recognized him, figured I would let you handle it since the kid’s parent decided not to press charges.” Davidson turns to Five, “You got lucky this time, kid.

“Fuck off, pig, don’t call me ‘kid’.” Five spits. 

Eudora can see Diego’s jaw tense as he says, “Thank you, Davidson.”

Davidson’s hand isn’t even off of Five before Diego is standing and pushing Five into the chair next to his desk.

“Five, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that Eric is a little bitch who thinks he’s better than me, so I wanted to prove him wrong. I miscalculated and got my ass handed to me.” Five says, blunt as ever. Diego pinches the bridge of his nose.

“You can’t go around fighting everyone-”

“Why not? You do.”

“Yeah, because I’m allowed because I’m a cop. You’re a kid.”

“Don’t call me a kid.” Five hisses.

“I will stop calling you a kid when you stop fucking acting like one,” Diego replies.

“Well, maybe I’ll stop ‘acting like one’ when you stop acting like you’re my dad.”

“Five,” Diego starts with a warning tone, “I am your dad.”

“No,” Five says, voice raising, not that it matters since just about every cop on the floor is staring, “You’re not. You’re just some fuck up who got stuck with me and now thinks he knows what’s best for me.”

“Fidel Victor Hargreeves, I swear to god-” Diego seethes, voice suddenly impossibly quiet, but before he can finish Five yells over him again.

“Or what? What will you do, Diego? Ground me? Make me switch schools again? Finally going to send me away like you always wanted?! Guess what Diego, I don’t need you, and I don’t want you around! I’d rather have an actual mom or dad, or better yet, nothing at all, instead of whatever the fuck you are!”

Diego seems stunned into silence, and after a second of heavy breathing, Five starts to get up from the chair to try and walk away.

Quick as a whip, Diego’s hand shoots out, pushing him back onto the chair and handcuffing him to the desk.

“What the fuck, Diego?” Five shrieks.

If Diego’s voice is watery, no one will be brave enough to comment, “You got into a fight - assaulted someone. I’m not letting you leave this precinct alone. And since I’ll have to clean up your mess - again - that means you have to wait here until someone can pick you up.”

For a second Five is still, until he lashes out trying to kick Diego.

“If you keep throwing a tantrum I will throw you into a holding cell,” Diego says, before grabbing his phone and walking away.

“Fuck you, you fucking fascist!” Five screams after him, but as soon as Diego is out of sight, he just crosses his arms the best he can and hunches over in the chair.

Eudora looks around, sees every other cop in the homicide division still staring at Five. _Thank god the captain is out at a meeting today_ , she thinks. “Okay, the show’s over, folks, let’s get back to work!”

She waits a minute, watching everyone slowly get back into their work, before going to follow Diego.

Anytime he needs to make calls he goes out to the old stairwell that has surprisingly decent reception. It’s too narrow for two way traffic, so most people avoid it, which is why Diego prefers it over the roof or the break room.

She opens the door to the stairwell slowly, peeking in she sees Diego sitting on a step, hunched over, palms pressed to his eyes.

“Hey,” she whispers, trying not to surprise him. Her efforts fall short, as he shoots up, hands falling away from his eyes and sniffs. His face is wet, eyes red.

“Oh hey, Patch,” he says. “I called fucking Luther of all people - figured he was the only one physically strong enough to carry Five out of here. He was busy though, so Ben is coming to get him.”

Eudora nods, closing the stairwell door behind her as she goes to squeeze in next to Diego on the step. It’s a tight fit.

He refuses to look at her, an occasional sniffle still sneaking out of his body.

“So, Fidel, huh?” She asks, not having planned to find Diego crying.

He lets out a garbled laugh. “Yeah, I wanted his name to be Spanish, you know, keep heritage or whatever. But then he refused to learn Spanish, and then we got into a fight when he was five, and since then he refused to go by anything besides that: Five.”

“He’s pretty stubborn.” She says, trying to be diplomatic. Diego nods, and for a minute Eudora thinks it’ll all be okay.

But then another sob wracks it way through Diego’s body and he chokes up, “C-c-could you leave me a-alone, please?”

“Yeah, bud, yeah, let me know if you need anything.” She says, almost relieved to leave this situation.

Ten minutes later, Diego comes - eyes red, face damp - to unlock Five’s handcuffs as he passes his son to Ben.

He sits down at his desk, takes a deep breath, and goes back to work until seven pm when he goes home.

It becomes another thing that no one talks to him about.

\--

Eudora never realized that in all her years of knowing Diego, she’s never been to his house.

They’re on their way back from a crime scene when Diego mentions he lives in the area, and _Hey, do you mind if we stop by for a minute, I forgot my flash drive on my bedside table,_ and suddenly Eudora is waiting for Diego to unlock the door to an apartment.

She doesn’t know what to expect. She knows his family is loaded, but she half expected him to live in an abandoned warehouse that doubled as an underground boxing ring. The apartment building that he lives in seems nice, nicer than most single cops with his salary could get (the perks of inheritance, she supposes), but it isn’t obnoxiously expensive. The halls could do with a fresh coat of paint, and Diego has to jiggle the doorknob just right to unlock the door.

“Come on in,” he says, after the door is open, “You want coffee, water?”

“Uh, just water,” she replies, looking around the entrance way. Against the wall there’s a neat row of Converse, Nikes and combat boots next to equally neat pairs of Birkenstocks, runners and leather shoes. The size difference is almost comical.

The entrance gives way to the living room, where a comfortable, but worn looking sofa and armchair sit around a chipped coffee table in front of a tv. There’s some complicated looking textbooks on the table, and the bookshelves surrounding the tv seems to be half books and half knickknacks.

Diego returns from the kitchen with a glass of water for Eudora, and says, “Just give me a minute,” before going down the hall to what Eudora is presuming is his bedroom.

She takes a sip and looks around the living room. There are more pictures on the walls than she would have presumed Diego would allow. Family photos, clearly taken before Five was born, with Diego smiling plastically with his siblings, his father looking regal and harsh, his mother beautiful and sweet. Photos of him as a teenager with Klaus and Ben, grinning with beers in their hands. Pictures of him with medals from a swimming competition, hair plastered to his face, huddled in a hoodie. He looked softer than she expected him to look as a teenager, somehow. Then she spots the pictures of Five.

The newer the photos are, the happier Diego looks in them. There’s a photo taken just last year, judging by the sling on Diego’s arm - an injury he gotten while trying to force a door open - showing him grinning wide next to a straight-faced Five, holding a trophy. A picture of Five at maybe age twelve, him scowling at Diego’s hand on his shoulder, Diego himself smiling softly. Five sitting on a swing, around age ten with a slight grin on his face, Diego looking tired but content. Then there’s the older pictures on the bookshelf. Pictures of a grinning toddler and a frowning Diego, pictures of Diego holding a bundled up baby, surrounded by his siblings who look awkward, his mother who looks as sweet as always, and a father who looks smug. Pictures of Five alone, playing with blocks and laughing.

Still no picture of a mother, Eudora notes. Only Diego’s family, or Diego himself. She wonders where the mom must have run off to if her absence was agreed upon or a surprise.

She finishes her water, and Diego comes out from the bedroom with a lanyard with a bunch of USB sticks hanging from it. He locks his apartment when they leave, and Eudora doesn’t ask any questions about Five’s mom. It wouldn’t be polite.

\--

Five is nearly finished reading his latest library book when he hears a sharp knock on the door, the only warning he gets before it swings open.

“You know the point of knocking is to wait for the person to say ‘come in’.” Five turns the page without looking up.

“Nah, it’s to let the person know that someone is coming in,” Diego replies. He sets down a bowl of strawberries on Five’s bedside table, grabbing the empty mug instead. “Good book?"

Five hums, eyes still glued to the page.

“‘Yes, Diego, it is a good book, thank you for bringing me food,’” Diego says in a comically high pitched voice.

Five grumbles, but Diego laughs and leaves the room. When he hears the door shut, Five looks up and glances at the bowl beside him. He reaches over, grabs the biggest one and takes a bite out of it. It’s sweet and the juice runs down his palm, making him scramble as to not get it on the pages of his book.

He brings an empty bowl out later, and he talks to Diego about his book for an hour.

\--

Eudora gets a Twitter notification before Diego gets the phone call. It’s sad, that school catching on fire, but it’s doesn’t seem relevant to bring it up in conversation. She doesn’t even think about the fact that she’s only ever seen Five in a private school uniform.

They’re just driving, patrolling an area where a witness apparently saw a suspect, even though they both know it’s a dead end. Eudora is behind the wheel since Diego said he wanted to be able to look over the witness statement as they drove.

Diego’s phone keeps vibrating in his pocket, so finally, he picks it up with an irritated, “What?”

Eudora looks over just in time to see his face fall.

“What? When? What do you mean- Is Five- What do you mean you don’t know? What- Fine, okay!” He hangs up almost frantic.

“What was that about?” Eudora asks, almost amused.

“Five’s school caught on fire, and they can't find him, but I know he’s there because I dropped him off this morning, and I need to get there right now,” Diego says all in one breath, looking like he’s a second away from crying.

“Oh damn,” Eudora says, flipping on the sirens and running through a light.

They’re at Five’s school in less than ten minutes, Diego spending the whole time nearly working himself into a panic attack. Eudora pulls up as close as she can to the school, it already surrounded by other parents and emergency vehicles, and before she’s even parked, Diego is jumping out of the car, sprinting towards the crowd of people.

He does his best to push through the crowd without knocking anyone over. After a few minutes of struggle, he manages to break through to the front of the crowd, where all the ambulances and school children who haven’t been picked up yet are waiting.

“Five! Five!” Diego calls out, making a few heads turn. He doesn’t see him, so he’s about to keep moving when he hears a garbled whine.

Diego’s head whips around, finally spotting Five sitting on the back of an ambulance, an oxygen mask strapped to his face, struggling against the paramedic who’s trying to keep him still. Diego dashes over to him.

“Five, oh my god, Five, are you okay?” He asks him desperately, hands shooting out to hold his face.  Five lets out another whine, and Diego realizes his arm and shoulder are wrapped with gauze and bandages.

“Oh, Five,” Diego says softly, making sure not to put too much pressure on him as he wrapped Five into a hug. He half expects Five to struggle and push him away, but instead, Five just presses closer and takes in a shaky breath.

And then he starts to cry.

“D-D-D-” Five starts to choke out, and Diego just shushes him and pets his hair, “ _Dad_ , I w-was scared, and - and - and there was smoke and-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Diego interrupts, hearing Five’s voice get more brittle, more gasps for air in between words. “It’s okay now, I’m here, Dad’s here, Five.”

Five nods his head shakily and takes another gasping breath.

After a few minutes, Five calms down enough to extract himself from Diego’s chest, face red and blotchy, tears still glistening on his cheeks. The paramedic tells Diego that Five got minor burns, but they aren’t serious, shouldn’t even scar, but that he should still take Five to the hospital, just to make sure everything is fine.

He removes the oxygen mask from Five’s face, and instantly Five is back to clinging to Diego like his life depends on it. Gingerly, Diego wraps his arms around his son and lifts him up, Five’s skinny legs locking like a vice around his hips.

“Come on, kid, let’s get you to a hospital,” Diego whispers.

“Do we have to, dad?” Five asks, “I’m tired.”

“I know, kid, but you can sleep in the car.” He says, before remembering that Eudora drove him. He looks around and finds her in the crowd. She stands awkwardly, not knowing if she should stand away from blubbering families, or if she should get closer to Diego.

Diego walks somewhat awkwardly, trying not to jostle Five too much.

“Hey, Patch, you think you could drive us to a hospital?” He asks, although he already knows she’ll say yes. As expected Eudora nods and starts to show him to where she hastily parked on the sidewalk. They make a brief detour to let a random school official know that Diego is taking Five to a hospital, so they don’t have to keep calling him.

Eudora opens the backdoor to the car for Diego and is only slightly surprised when instead of depositing Five in the back and climbing into the front seat, Diego gingerly sits down in the back, still holding Five in his arms. He rearranges Five’s skinny body so that he sits across Diego’s lap.

“Seatbelt,” Diego mutters, making Five sighs as he helps to buckle it across the two of them.

Five falls asleep on the cautious drive to the hospital, waking up periodically to cough. Occasionally Eudora peeks at them through the rear view mirror, sees Diego rub circles on Five’s back or whispering to him softly. She also feels embarrassed to see these acts of affection, like a voyeur or a peeping tom, given how cold and distant Diego and Five tend to act towards each other in public.

Eudora pulls up to the hospital and she has to help Diego out of the car since he doesn’t want to wake up his sleeping child.

“You know, he’s almost cute when he’s sleeping,” Diego jokes quietly, as he does his best to get a grip on Five’s legs.

Eudora laughs, but it’s tense. She agrees with the statement, but it’s hard to make a quip back when she can see the bandages around the kid’s arm getting darker with plasma and blood. They stand awkwardly for a moment.

“Do you think you could also call the captain and just let him know why I won’t be back at the station today?”

“Oh, yeah, of course, totally,” Eudora says quickly, already dreading the conversation.

Diego smiles, “Thanks, Patch, I owe you one.”

“Don’t worry about it.”  Another moment of silence.

“So, yeah, uh, thanks.” And then Diego is off, walking towards the automatic doors.

Eudora waits until the two of them have disappeared behind layers of glass, before getting into the car and driving back to the station. Diego takes three more days off of work but no one has the gall to bring it up when he comes back.

\--

Beaman feels like he’s dying after Diego walked him through his normal work out. He mentioned wanting to switch gyms, and Diego offered to show him his usual routine.

“Holy shit, no wonder you look like that,” he pants out, making Diego laugh. Beaman decides that dignity isn’t worth it, and hunches over, hands on knees as he takes deep breaths.

“You get used to it.” He says, simply, though there’s still sweat running down his face. He lifts the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his face.

And Beaman doesn’t mean to stare, but he was looking in that direction anyway, and he’s pretty sure Diego just did that to show off his abs, but then Beaman is face to face with yet another scar and _holy shit-_

“How’d you get that one?” His mouth asks before his brain can tell him not to. Diego makes a confused noise. Beaman jerks his head in the general direction of Diego’s stomach.

“That one.” He’s looking at the long vertical scar, going right up his stomach. It looks old, in some lights it probably isn’t noticeable at all, but with the rest of Diego’s skin bright and sweaty, the darker, somewhat crooked line stands out starkly.

“Oh,” Diego looks down and quickly drops his shirt. For once he seems awkward talking about it, “It’s from a surgery I had a long time ago. It didn't go well. I don’t want to talk about it.”

The terseness of his reply takes Beaman off guard, but he quickly recovers, nods, and says, “Fair enough.”

He still finds it strange, though, how open Diego is about every other mark on his body, but he won’t push it.

Especially not after Diego showed him how hard he could punch.

\--

“Hey, Diego,” Eudora starts before she thinks better. They’re at a bar, celebrating closing a case, and she’s probably drunken more than her fair share, but then Diego offered to pay for the next round and it wouldn’t be polite to decline, even though the question she’s about to ask couldn't be considered anything other than rude, “Diego!”

“What?” He laughs a bit at her slurring, taking another sip of beer.

“Where’s Five’s mom?”

Diego just about chokes on his drink. “What?”

“Where is Five’s mom?” She asks, slower and louder.

“Why do you need to know?” Diego frowns.   

“I’m just wonderin’,” she says, “Just ‘cause you’re always taking care of him, and you haven’t dated anyone in a while, so I was just wondering-”

“He doesn’t need a mom,” Diego cuts her off, almost angry, “He has me.”

“I’m not accusing you, or anything,” Eudora says, even though just saying that makes it sound worse, “Like, I said, I was just curious about her.”

For some reason, that comment seems to upset him more.

“Five doesn’t need a mom, he doesn’t need another dad, I’m his parent, his dad. We don’t need anyone else.” Diego almost growls out. He’s gathering his things before Eudora has a chance to backtrack or apologize, and before she knows it he’s gone.

 

The next morning Eudora' s head is killing her and she narrowly avoids vomiting while brushing her teeth. Her memory of the night previous is fuzzy, but she remembers enough to know that she clearly hit a nerve and was out of line.

She walks into work wearing sunglasses and carrying two coffees. She silently sets one down on Diego’s desk, earning a raised eyebrow from him.

At lunchtime, he tells her that Five got in trouble at school for talking back to a teacher, and the only reason why they haven’t kicked him out is that his marks are so good he brings up the curve of every class he’s in. He looks at her, almost as if testing to see what her reaction is.

Eudora hums. “Well, I’m sure you have it under control.”

Diego looks at her for another second, then shrugs, before telling her about a show he saw a few nights ago.

Eudora figures that means she passed.

\--

Shockingly, it isn’t a knife or a bullet or a hammer or even a machete that lands Diego into the hospital this time; it’s a car. Arguably it’s the most normal injury anyone in the homicide division can recall Diego being the victim of. He was doing surveillance on the street when the suspect got spooked and decided to drive off - right into Diego. He keeps repeating that it’s not a big deal, even after he has his leg in a cast and a doctor telling him that he should stay in the hospital for a few days so that they can check his ribs and head.

Eudora and Beaman decide to wait until his family show up when Diego turns to them with a wince and says, “I need to call Five, can I have a phone?”

Beaman phone is in his hand so he just passes it over. Diego types in a number and winces again as he puts the phone again his ear.

“Hey, kiddo- I know, I know, you don’t like being called that. Someone called you, right? Yeah, I’m in the hospital. No, I’m not dying, don’t sound so excited. Listen, before you come - because you are going to visit me, you little sociopath - can you grab some stuff for me at home? Yeah, clothes, stuff like that, I also need you to get my, uh, stuff out of the bathroom. Under the sink. I’m supposed to do it today, but they wanna keep me here for a bit and I just don’t wanna get off track again. Thanks. If you call Ben or Klaus they might be able to drive you here. You’ll just take the bus? Okay, see you later.” He hangs up and passes the phone back to Beaman.

It’s less than an hour later when Five walks into the hospital room carrying a backpack. He’s out of his school uniform, but he’s still wearing a button up shirt under a cardigan.

He nods at the detectives when they say, “Hello, Five.”

Five looks at Diego and snorts, “Getting fragile, old man?”

“Shut up,” Diego says, groaning when he sits up. “Did you bring my stuff?”

“When you say it like that it makes it sound illegal.” Five says, drily, as he unzips the backpack. He pulls out a first kit, and Eudora is about to ask why Diego needed a first aid kit in a hospital when Five unzips that as well and pulls out a needle.

He walks over to Diego, who immediately looks uncomfortable.

“Can you move this gown without scarring my eyes?” Five prompts and Diego nods and moves it to the side, revealing his stomach and that long scar that is oh so visible in the harsh, hospital lighting.

Five takes the cap off the needle, and Diego closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Three, two, one,” Five counts down, before plunging the needle into Diego’s stomach. He slowly injects the contents of it, Diego holding his breath the whole time. After a few seconds, Five removes the needle, walking over to the biohazard disposal box on the walls.

“I should have brought all the other ones and just thrown them out here.” He comments, before going back to the first aid kit and pulling out an alcohol wipe and a bandaid.

Beaman clears his throat, “Um, what was that?”

“What was what?” Five asks, passing the items to Diego.

“What was up with that, that needle?” Eudora asks.

Five raises an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“What was in it?” Eudora presses on, undeterred by Five’s tone, which suggests he thinks she’s an idiot.

“Testosterone.” Diego supplies, just as Five’s opening his mouth.

That only prompts more questions.

“Why are you taking testosterone?” Beaman asks before his eyes widen. “Oh my god, is it for your boxing? Are you doping”

Five scoffs, but Diego ignores him. “No, it’s totally legal, I have a prescription.”

“Why?” Eudora asks.

“Uh, because I have to, otherwise my body will change back to what it was before.” He looks at the confused faces of his friends. “I’m trying to tell you I’m trans, but I guess it isn’t working.”

Eudora and Beaman gape for a few seconds.

“Can I leave? This is weird for me.” Five interrupts, clearly not caring about the revelations going on inside the room. Diego rolls his eyes.

“You can wait outside.”

“I’m going to the cafeteria.” Five says, not waiting for an agreement before he leaves.

For a few seconds, the room is silent.

“So,” Eudora starts, “You’re trans?”

“Yes.”

“And this never came up before because..?”

 

“Because it was never relevant and I didn’t want you to know.” His face is unsympathetic when a brief wave of hurt crosses their faces. “It isn’t against you or because I thought negatively about you or anything, it’s just really personal and I don’t like a lot of people knowing about.”

“Is this why you don’t date?” Beaman asks before he seems to catch what he said. “Sorry.”

“I mean, partially. Part of me not dating is also because I’m a cop, and part of it is because of Five.”

Another wave of silence comes across the room.

“And Five is…?” Eudora starts, hoping Diego will understand what she’s asking.

“Five is my kid. I had him when I was sixteen, as in I gave birth to him. Well, actually I had a real nasty c-section because he was upside down. His other dad fucked off somewhere, I don’t care and neither does he.”

The two of them nod.

“Not to be rude, but does Five act the way he does because of… this?” Beaman asks carefully.

Diego snorts. “No, you’re not the first one to ask. He acts like that because he’s a dick, I love him but he is, and he spent the first five-ish years of his life in a house with my siblings and father. So, he was bound to get kind of messed up, I just didn’t think it would result in so many goddamn suspensions."

Beaman and Eudora ask a few more questions before they lapse into a new silence. Five comes back with a cup of coffee that makes him pull a face every time he takes a sip.

“No one is holding a gun to your head, you don’t have to drink that,” Diego says after Five nearly gags into the cup.

“Fuck you, Diego, I do what I want.” He eyes Diego’s cast, “And you can’t stop me.”

It’s almost comical how only a few minutes later Five is fluffing Diego’s pillow before saying, “I’m going home now.”

“Want a ride?” Eudora asks, police brain switching on, viewing Five not as her friend’s son who could probably talk his way out of a mugging, but as a skinny minor, walking through the streets of New York in the late evening.

Five eyes her for a moment, before saying, “Okay.”

They say their farewells to Diego, him making Five promise to go to school the next day.

Eudora isn’t sure what she intends to accomplish or attain from giving Five a ride to his house. Mostly he’s quiet in the backseat, occasionally giving directions, even though Eudora knows her way to Diego’s apartment.

“So, how’s school?” Beaman tries, the silence suffocating him.

“I know Diego tells you how it’s going, you don’t have to ask.” _Well, that didn’t work_.

They’re almost at Diego’s house, and the curiosity is eating away at Eudora.

“Hey, Five,” She asks. Five hums, looking out the window. “Why don’t you call Diego ‘dad’?”

“Why would I?” Is his response, which throws her for a loop.

 “Because he’s your father?”

“The terms mom and dad are possessive terms that came out of the middle class, nuclear family dynamic; a dynamic that I did not grow up with and one that I continue to not be a part of.” He looks over and makes eye contact with her through the mirror, “Besides, what teenager wants to be called ‘dad’?”

Eudora struggles to find a response, but Five presses on. “Diego and my’s relationship is fine, regardless of how unconventional it is. I grew up in a house full of weird fucking people, but Diego was still the only one who could - or at least tried to - raise me. He taught me how to tie my shoes, and read, and gut a fish, and drive, and shave, and how to dress myself. Any deviations from the norm are intentional. If you think something is wrong with the way I act or the way he raises me then you can keep it to yourself, because someone already called social services once and that was a really weird month for everyone involved.”

“I think,” Beaman butts in, “that as long as both of you are happy, then there’s nothing to be concerned about.”

Five seems satisfied with that answer and looks out the window again.

Something clicks in Eudora mind. “Wait, did you say he taught you how to drive? You’re fourteen!”

\--

After that, not much changes. Diego goes back to work but is put on desk duty until his cast is off. He still keeps a lot of things private, doesn’t brag about Five’s accomplishments or put pictures of him on his desk. But one day Diego invites Eudora and Beaman over for dinner, saying something about how Five was staying at a friend’s house to work on a project so he was planning on drinking and watching movies.

They have a good time, nothing crazy happens, but when Eudora gets up to get another beer from the fridge she looks over at the bookshelf in the living room and sees all the old pictures of Five. Five smiling with building blocks, the grinning toddler and the frowning teenager. And in the front is a new addition.

Right in the front, in a new frame, even though the actual picture looks worn as if someone's touched it a lot over the years, is, what Eudora is guessing, the first picture of Five ever.

Still pink and slimy, Five is in a blanket, gazing up at a sweaty, tired looking Diego. He looks young, younger than sixteen, but that might be due to the look of confusion and anxiety on his face. He still looks muscular, but his face is softer, and Eudora can see the clear signs of breasts under the hospital gown. His siblings are crowded around the hospital bed, all smiling stiffly at the camera, and Diego’s mother has her hand on Diego’s shoulder.

Eudora remembers what Diego said about not feeling anything when Five was born, and it may be because she’s tipsy, and she’s seen Diego give Five hugs goodbye, and texting him in the morning to remind him to have breakfast, and calling him to let him know that he went grocery shopping so his favourite chips are in the cupboard, but Eudora begs to differ that he felt nothing.

Because despite looking tired, and sweaty, and confused, and anxious, he’s smiling. Not like his siblings are smiling, not like he’s only smiling because someone told him to, but he’s smiling the way he does Five forgets to tell him off for calling him ‘kid’, or when Five hugs him back, or when Five says ‘thank you’ without being told. There are smiles specifically reserved for Five, Eudora has realized, and in that picture, she sees the first one ever.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks jordo hope ur cabin in the woods essay gets a good mark
> 
> also i was talking 2 my friend about umbrella academy and he was Convinced that Adian (five's actor) Wasn't White. like, determined. it was kinda funny so anyways now: White Latino Five, Rise


End file.
